The internet, the final frontier. These are the cynical ramblings of a British expat. My five year mission is to share strange, absurd opinions, to present highly questionable facts and alarmingly callous views, and to boldly blog like no blogger has blogged before…

Monthly Archives: August 2013

In life there are many things that happen to a lot of people every single day. People get new phones, new jobs, buy new cars, and of course, move house. It is therefore perfectly reasonable to assume that the professionals who deal with these types of things have procedures in place to make them as quick and as simple as possible. But since when was life reasonable?

My wife and I, as a couple, are perfectly balanced. We have about our relationship a degree of equilibrium; she cooks, I wash up. She leaves the living room in a state, I tidy up. I crash the car into a pillar in the underground car park and knock the fog light out, she takes the blame: perfectly balanced. Whereas I will usually be the one who goes off on mad ranting tangents, she will calm me down by telling me that I’m being a pillock. It works.

However, over the last couple of weeks the mad ranting seems to have shifted from Mr. Fullard to Mrs. Fullard, and, frankly, I just can’t let this carry on. Since we have moved apartment, Mrs. Fullard has been trying to get the home internet sorted. This, it turns out, is a near-impossible thing to achieve. Never have I heard her spit such venomous slurs.

We have moved from our old apartment in Al Ain, where we have internet, to our new apartment in Abu Dhabi, where we want internet. Are you still with me? Is it as simple as just transferring the package over to a new address? No. Is it as simple as cancelling the Al Ain package and starting a new one in Abu Dhabi? No. Would it be easier for family Fullard to invent their own internet? Yes, much so.

If I were to find a book called “Build Your Own Internet” then I genuinely believe that I’d have a fair chance, and that the time taken to chuck it together would be quicker than dealing with the pros. Allow me to illustrate just how hard the network provider has made my wife’s life recently.

First, she went to Internet HQ in Al Ain to ask what the correct procedure is. She sat and waited with her ticket for over an hour before being told that it was home time and everybody’s shift had to come to an end. Down but not out, she returned the following morning and waited for over 90 minutes, only to be told that she had to go to Abu Dhabi, and that transferring the package from A to B would take but a minute.

That weekend we both paid a visit to an office in Marina Mall, where we were both told that transferring our package across to the new apartment was “not possible.” My wife, incensed with rage, highlighted her displeasure, leaving me sitting there feeling rather awkward, and even, may I add, a touch sorry for the poor guy. The helpless man said that we had to call a random man who, as it turned out, was just a random man who knew nothing of anything. Internet man then said that we could fill out a new application form for an internet to be delivered to our new home…once we had cancelled our package in Al Ain.

So, back to the Al Ain office my wife went. After being made to wait a mere 45 minutes, she met another person whose sole purpose in life seemed to be to occupy space and little more. My wife was told that cancelling the package was not allowed, because she had already submitted a new application in Abu Dhabi. In order for us to get internet in our new home, we had to cancel the new application that we had submitted, call the random man who had no idea who we were for no reason, then cancel the Al Ain package, drive back to Abu Dhabi to re-submit a new application, and then each donate a leg to medical science.

How can all this be so? I am genuinely at a loss to understand how this procedure is allowed to carry on. I can only surmise that the network provider is in bed with the local petroleum merchant and all the driving hither and thither is part of the plan… This is the 21st century, according to experts we’re supposed to start colonising Mars soon. How can we be sure that that will go well if we can’t even move house and take our internets with us?

All I can say is thank you to “bootyman1,” whoever you are, for not password protecting your Wi-Fi… Without you, the masses wouldn’t be able to heed my warning:

…Don’t, under any circumstances, move house if you want internet.

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Drum roll please… UAE Uncut is back with a bang! Well, not quite, more of a pathetic drip. Since my last inscription in this muddy puddle of cyberspace much has changed. In the last six weeks I have got married, have resigned from my job of six years, and have moved to a new apartment in Abu Dhabi. As you would imagine, life has been jolly busy and, in essence, has little to do with the point of today’s missive.

Since moving here in 2008, I have read many tales from the crypt about how dear old Mother Earth is starting to cough and misplace her dentures. Where as once she was able to walk to the shops and back in 15 minutes, nowadays she does so with a walking stick, making full use of the park bench at half distance to catch her breath. The old girl is showing her age and, of course, her children are to blame.

Let’s not get embroiled in an environmental debate here, but sometimes I wish people would see sense and realise that money doesn’t do anything of any use. No, really. How does paying extra money for certain things in anyway combat physics? We begin with the most obvious of targets for such heinous antics; airlines. Naturally, everyone is provided with a maximum baggage allowance on an aircraft. Anywhere between 20-23kg is generally the average. Over the summer I have been back to Blighty, to Ireland, and to Italy. Because I was travelling around a bit, I had to pack a bit more and was thusly over my allowance.

In most cases, the options laid out before me were a) unpack some things and leave them there on the floor of the terminal for eternity and b) to pay an outrageous fee so that they could indeed travel. Annoyingly, and despite my best sarcastic cannonballs, I had to get my wallet out. The woman said that if everyone was over their allowance then the plane would be too heavy and would plummet to the Earth and that I would be killed. But how does then paying £4,000 per kilogramme all of a sudden make it ok?

Here in the UAE we are protected from the environmental fascism of Europe, and one can easily forget that back under the iron fist of Brussels, life is far more difficult. What were once simple chores of every day life are fast becoming a royal pain the Merkel. I speak, of course, of shopping.

While away in the EUSSR, each and every time I needed to pop into a supermarket I was forced to carry away my Ruffles, Smarties, eggs, deodorant, and milk in my arms. Plastic carrier bags are now a tradable commodity. If I wanted the convenience of carrying my humble groceries in a bag, then I had to pay for the privilege. I’m sorry, but I just can’t subscribe to this.

Before we go any further perhaps I should highlight that I despise those who litter, and companies that continue to package razors in vacuum formed Perspex are no more morally sound than Somali pirates. Plastic bags are indeed a menace and I hate seeing them blowing around windy allies or wrapped around Nelson’s Column. But why should I have my convenience compromised just because some careless halfwit can’t use a recycling bin properly?

UAE Uncut-grade goods retaining unit. Trademark, £40 per dozen. What? Someone has to make money out of environmentalism

So, my question is: what is wrong with paper bags? Paper bags were the norm for decades and worked just as well. They can come with handles, can be completely recycled, they are re-useable, and, as far as my research concludes, are cheaper than plastic bags. Ok, in the rain they can get a bit soggy, but no matter.

Food prices in supermarkets are high(ish) across Europe, and there is no way in a month of Sundays that a locally grown apple can cost as much as a majority stake in Microsoft. Therefore it is reasonable to assume that merchants can still afford to bulk buy bags for their customers.

What about those big re-useable bags you can buy? They’re great, after you’ve made the initial down-payment. But their usage is dictated solely by whether you actually have one with you or not. If I pop up to Dubai for the day and then, on impulse, decide that I need to dash into a shop for a pack of Smarties and a plasma TV, then the odds are I won’t have one with me. This is what happened in Italy. I was on my honeymoon, and at no point in the packing process did I think that I would need a re-usable shopping bag. This, I’m sure, would have cost me even more money-for-weight with Aer Lingus. And I didn’t want to be responsible for making the plane crash.

The thought didn’t even cross my mind. If I needed to rake in supplies from the local goods merchant, then I assumed that my convenience as a paying customer would not be called into question. But, instead, I was forced to walk back to the hotel juggling my Lynx and Smarties looking like some mad shoplifter.

Returning to Europe reminded me about how lucky we are in the UAE. Flying back from Italy with Etihad, my suitcase was several kilos over the allowance, I wasn’t asked to pay, and the plane didn’t even remotely crash. Convenience is the cornerstone of the Emirates and long may it continue. The day this country starts to charge me for carrier bags will be the day I decide to pack up and go elsewhere. The question is, where is beyond the reach of madness? And how much baggage allowance will I have to pay for to get there? I need to go somewhere where I can carry my shopping in peace, and for free; Chad, perhaps?

Mother Earth is indeed getting on a bit, but she is not yet at the stage where she needs a Stannah stair-lift. When the time comes we will take care of her, but like any good parent, she will want the best for her children without wishing to be “too much of a bother.” My wish, mum, is that my human siblings don’t deprive me of my convenience. Let me carry my shopping like you used to in the old days, a paper bag will be fine.